


music is like a friend who isn’t there

by VITRI0L



Category: DreamSMP, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dadza and his sons, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Happy Ending, a cute sbi fic for when the going gets tough, i’ve put them through so much your honour, no beta we die like men, sleepy bois inc - Freeform, there is no pain just happiness, young TommyInnit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27942104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VITRI0L/pseuds/VITRI0L
Summary: Just a little backstory for Philza and his family :)
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 160





	music is like a friend who isn’t there

**Author's Note:**

> this one goes out to everyone whose hearts i broke with my last two works. sorry to switch up on ya so fast, just needed a break from all the angst
> 
> enjoy <3

Philza Minecraft was often seen as a sort of legend to those who had heard stories about him. A passionate man ever since he was a teen, Phil was wide eyed and bushy tailed when he set off from his home village at the age of seventeen.

He was a brilliant man, with an eye for details and a tactical mind. He held his own in the harsh world, doing so much more than surviving.

Phil’s never ending wanderlust seemed like just that. He walked the Overworld and Nether alike, collecting, exploring, building and fighting. He took and he took and he took, yet the fire in his chest never went out and he was never satisfied.

•••

At the age of nineteen, on the cusp of his twentieth birthday, Phil’s life would be turned upside down. 

The adult had decided that he wanted to settle down for a little bit. After more than a year of constant exploring, Phil suddenly wanted to apply his passion to a more... mundane life.

He had a routine, a schedule that seemed to give a purpose. Phil would wake up, eat, go to town, build or start a project at his base, eat dinner, sleep and do it all over again. Such a life was the thing that Phil had been trying to escape at seventeen, but he couldn’t deny the peacefulness in a simple life.

While the blond man was in town, he would walk past a dark alley and see something out of the corner of his eyes. When Phil turned and went to check it out, his heart froze and dismally washed through him.

Two young boys sat side by side against the cobblestone wall. It was dark, even though being only the evening, but Phil could make out the way their cheekbones protruded unnaturally, how gangly their thin arms hung by their concave sides. 

One of them didn’t even have his eyes open whereas the other was watching Phil wearily, rolling his cracked lips between his teeth.

Phil immediately took them in, gaining their trust with gentle words and even gentler touches. Eventually, after a bunch of “hey, how are you, buddy”, “Are you hungry? Would you like to come with me” and other consoling statements, the twins let him pick them both up and carefully walk them back to his base.

Wilbur, the one with greasy, brown hair, watched Phil untrustingly the whole time. Those empty, brown eyes bore holes into the side of the man’s face, burning him. Technoblade never opened his eyes once durning the trip, but he did lean his head tentatively against Phil’s broad shoulder.

Phil felt a deep, familial connection to the two instantly.

The twins, who were only nine when Phil picked them off the streets, were like a storm that crashed into the blond man’s life, destroying everything in it’s path without a care in the world. 

Phil wouldn’t have it any other way.

•••

The man was twenty four when he found himself awoken by the soft taps of gentle rain against his bedroom window. Phil looked over to the clock that sat on his nightstand with tired eyes.

5:15

Phil sighed quietly, exhaustion making him want to fall back asleep. 

The house was silent, however, no quiet whispers or the stifled sounds of shuffling in the living room or kitchen to be heard.

His sons were still asleep.

Phil got up and made his way down the stairs, careful not to step on the left side of the stairs. (They made an awful creaking noise that Wilbur hated). He crept into the cold, tile kitchen with a small smile on his face.

There were no dishes in the sink, so Techno must’ve listened to him after all. The pink haired hybrid was difficult, that’s for sure, but he was just as well meaning when he wanted to be. 

Phil pulled his black bathrobe around himself as he opened the fridge door with a soft click. There wasn’t much in there, he needed to go to the market today.

So, the young man settled on making eggs.

He didn’t get very far before he was interrupted by soft, little footfalls against the cold tile.

“Dad?” a small voice asked.

Phil turned, with a big smile unconsciously crossing his lips when his eyes fell on his youngest son.

Tommy rubbed his eyes with one of his little fists, the other holding onto that stuffed cow he never went anywhere without. His pale blond hair was a mess and his blue eyes were tired.

“Toms, why are you up so early,” Phil asked as his son meandered closer.

“Heard you,” the boy mumbled.

“Ah, I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” he asked, heart swelling at the way Tommy pouted.

“No, ‘s fine...”

A big yawn cut him off. Phil grinned, and crouched down, ruffling Tommy’s bed head hair.

“Well, now that you’re up, are you hungry?” he asked.

Phil had explored the world, saved many a villages, fend of hordes of the undead and other kinds of monsters, but here he stood, in a too small kitchen for his growing family. The rain pouring gently outside as the warrior, once devoted to his skill, was now devoted to the most mundane of things.

His family.

 _They’d say I’ve gone soft,_ a part of him said.

Phil didn’t care, though, not when Tommy pouted again. The six year old shook his head rather cartoonishly, crossing his arms and squishing Henry to his red night shirt.

“No,” Tommy replied.

“Fine, suit yourself,” Phil told him good-naturedly, going to stand up so the eggs wouldn’t burn.

A small hand grabbed his robe, causing the man to turn his attention back to the kid. Tommy’s icy blue eyes were full of tears as he looked up at Phil, lower lip trembling as the blond tried his best not to cry.

Phil had faced many swords and axes in his time that shone fiercely in the sun and from the enchantments carved into the blades. But, none had the such the effect on him as those tearful, bright blue eyes and those glossy cheeks stained with tears. 

The older man sighed in an exaggerated manner and scooped Tommy into his arms. The kid giggled softly and Phil just rolled his eyes, smiling wider than before.

Tommy placed Henry down on the counter by the stove and Phil moved him a little further from the burners. His son would want that back soon enough, and the man didn’t want his house to catch on fire because of a toy. 

That would be a weak way to go out.

Phil flipped the fried eggs as Tommy nestled his face into the crook of his neck. Carefully, the man cradled Tommy against his chest and hand holding the kid’s back protectively. Tommy giggled again, finding something amusing and Phil laughed too.

“Why’re you laughing?” he asked.

Tommy sat up as much as Phil would allow him and looked into his dad’s face with a silly expression dancing across his face.

“Nothing, I just never seen you hug Wil or Techno like this,” Tommy said, “It’s funny.”

Phil rolled his eyes. His twins, they were going through their independent stage as they were both fourteen now and they figured that they didn’t need there father as much anymore. Phil didn’t mind, in fact, he understood fully.

He was just glad to have a son who still openly needed him.

“They’re going through they’re rebellious stage,” he tells Tommy with a kind smile, “They don’t need me around all the time now.”

“They’re... fucking stupid,” Tommy said, half under his breath.

Phil nearly dropped the spatula and his mouth fell open, shock running through him.

“Mate...!” he exclaimed, looking at the wide eyed boy, “Who- who taught you that word?”

Tommy frowned, clearly considering lying to his father. The kid was a called troublemaker, just like Wilbur and Techno were.

And just like Phil used to be.

Though, the blond just sighed tiredly.

“Wil did,” he mumbled, sounding rather guilty for a six year old.

If Phil had been a “good parent”, he probably would have told Tommy off. And then he would’ve had to tell Wil off too. It was the responsible thing to do.

Instead, Phil laughed a little too loudly for five in the morning. Tommy watched him in surprise, a small smile on his lips too.

“Ahhh, your brothers... they’re something else,” he said jovially. 

Tommy rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath, that something probably being an insult of some kind. Phil doesn’t tell him off for that either, he just turned of the burner.

No matter how much his sons fought and screamed at each other, Phil knew they loved one another. He could see it when Techno begrudgingly agreed to spar with Wilbur, or when Tommy was sick and the twins took it upon themselves to help him recover. The love was in way Techno would defend his odd family from the harsh words of the villagers, it was in Wilbur’s poetically tragic songs and it was present in Tommy’s blue eyes when he caught a glimpse of his dad.

“Dad... can you play some music,” Tommy asked quietly as Phil plated the eggs (he’d ended up making enough for everyone).

“Yeah, whatcha want to listen to?” 

He already knew the answer.

“Mellohi,” Tommy ordered loudly, tacking on a “Please,” when Phil gave him a questioning look.

Phil exited the kitchen, Tommy still in hand and into the living room. He found the wooden jukebox, which was quite scratched up, with a music disc half placed in it already. It looked as though Tommy had attempted to put the disc in himself, but seeing as he was a little short for his age, he gave up halfway. 

Phil snorted as he adjusted Mellohi, watching it sink gently into the jukebox. There’s a click followed by the familiar tune of the music disc. 

Tommy smiled, pressing his face back into his dad’s robe. Phil adjusted the kid in his arms, so he was balanced on Phil’s hip with Phil’s arm wrapped around his middle.

Those tiny hands came up to hug his waist, Tommy’s sleepiness finally getting the better of the kid. 

The rain poured softly outside as music surrounded them inside. The lovely melody danced through the air and suddenly, Phil was just content to stand in the living room as his youngest son clung to him.

He’d always thought that music was like a friend who wasn’t there. 

Phil could hear the soft rustle of blankets, quiet whispers and footsteps from upstairs. 

He stood in the living room, relishing the final moments of peace he would be granted today as he prepared for another mundane day.

Phil didn’t regret a thing.

**Author's Note:**

> a few headcannons of mine;  
> \- techno & wil are twins  
> \- tommy’s music discs were gifts from phil when he went to join the SMP  
> \- the reason the discs mean so much is bc it symbolizes tommy & tubbo’s friendship and also reminds tommy of home :)  
> \- tommy was actually quite short as a kid until he got a massive fucking growth spurt
> 
> you can follow me on twitter @vitri0licc if you want 
> 
> have a good day!


End file.
